


Being a super is not easy

by Yepmissis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Drarry onesided, F/F, F/M, Kind of serious, M/M, Slice of Life, Vigilants, inspiration from Gotham, kind of comic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 21:27:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17857238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yepmissis/pseuds/Yepmissis
Summary: When he decided to take the mask and become the hero of Hogward city, Harry didn't expect his life to be easy. However, he hadn't anticipated the rise of a supervillain known as Voldemort, being harassed by a blond journalist convinced that he his "The   Chosen One", or the sudden interest of his customer; the handsome, mysterious, and slightly annoying Tom Riddle who always order an Americano - "No cream or sugar, just Black. Like my soul.". Who said that being a super was easy?





	Being a super is not easy

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Everybody! First, thank you for opening this page.   
> Some warnings; English is not my first language. I will do my best, but there will probably be some spelling and grammar mistakes.   
> Also, this story is an outlet for me. I will write chapters when I have time and when I am inspired, but I cannot promise regular posts.  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy the read. Please, don't take it to seriously (I don't). There might be some plot development later - or not. I will follow my characters on this.

It was late already. Or early, depending on how one looked at the clock. To be more factual; it was four o'clock in the morning.

Now, those who have already been awake - and sober - at this time of the day might know how special this hour is. There are a lot of people in the street, at four o'clock in the morning; the brave workers, ready to start there day and make everything ready for the rest of humanity. On their way to clean the streets, bake your bread our brew your coffee. The partygoers, looking for a cab or emptying their stomach on the side of the road, grateful to have a friend to hold up their hair. And finally, the people just finishing their day.  Hurrying to the bus stop, hoping to catch the night bus as soon as possible, the only thing in their mind is the prospect of their bed. 

Harry belongs to two of these three categories. Indeed, he was on his way to work - his cafe, named "The Marauders" in memory of his late parents, opened at eight. Therefore, he had to start the preparations at six. However, he had also just finished his night job - slightly less legal - which required a constant vigilance from him during the whole night. Looking at him, a scrawny boy in his early twenties, with wild black hairs, sun-kissed skin and old round glasses, nobody would suspect him to be the guardian of Hogward City, the superhero known as The Chosen One. However, if they were to look inside his bag, they would find a black costume, marked by red and golden motifs, and a black mask, large enough to cover his emerald eyes and the lightning scar running from his hairline to his right eyebrow.

This night had been particularly eventful. After having prevented a house robbery, Harry had arrested a group of masked men who had decided to rob a serpentarium. What they intended to do with the snakes, Harry had no idea. But probably nothing good, since a lot of the stolen specimen's were from dangerous species. All-in-all, Harry was glad to see the beginning of a new day.  

Walking through the cold of a late November morning, a red and golden scarf around his neck, he started to run in order to get more quickly to The Marauders and escape the cold. However, when he was just a few feet away from the back entrance, he heard a voice call his name.

"Hey, Scarhead!"

Correction; call his surname.

With a sight, Harry turned to face his old school mate. Draco Malfoy. With his Slytherin scarf, a matched hat and a fancy looking coat, the blond seemed unbothered by the weather.

"Malfoy, what are you doing here? At this hour? If you came for breakfast, we don't open before a few hours"

"Please, Potter. I have coffee at my house coming straight from Guatemala. As if I would lower myself to ingest anything made in your... " 

"Watch out Malfoy." said Harry as a warning. 

" .... common little shop" continued Malfoy, seemingly having decided to avoid a straight-on confrontation.

Harry waited a few seconds for the blond to explain the reason for his presence. However, it seemed that the previous Slytherin was not going to spill the beans by himself.

"So, once again, what are you doing here?"

 Malfoy observed him for some time before saying, "And if you told me what YOU were doing, Scarhead?"

This left Harry slightly bereft.

"Euh... what? You mean, besides going to work?"

The blond came closer, a smirk on his face.

"I mean, what were you doing before coming here? I watched your flat - you haven't been there the whole night. And I know for sure that you weren't at Granger's or Weasley' place either."

Harry took a step back. "Okay. This is really creepy Malfoy. You are following... I mean, you are stalking me. This is insane. I could go to the police right now, and ask for a restrictive order."

The blond's smirk grew bigger.

"Oh no, I know that you won't take this risk, Potter."

"And why not?"

"First, because I am an eminent journalist. A journalist currently investigating on a very important case, likely linked to you. Saint Potter wouldn't want to be known as the troublemaker who prevented an honest man from doing his job and deliver information to his readers, would he?"

"Try me", said Harry, chin up. It didn't seem to affect the other man.

"Secondly, because I highly doubt you would want the officers to look at your bag. What would they find there, if I were to tell them that you might have a dangerous weapon? Hum?"

"I..." started Harry, but he was interrupted when Malfoy suddenly surged forward, putting both hands on the wall beside Harry's head, trapping the shorter man. 

"Don't lie! I know that you are the Chosen One! That you roam Hogward streets chasing petty criminals. I saw you tonight. I followed you. Sure, I didn't see your change of clothes, but I would recognize your silhouette anywhere. So just admit it, Harry!"

Here it was. The strange and somewhat scary obsession of Malfoy toward him, which had shown his ugly head since their first year in school. For a while, Harry had shared and reciprocated this attention. However, after the death of his godfather, he had decided that there were bigger and more evil fishes in the pond than Draco Malfoy. Needless to say, the blond hadn't appreciated losing his place in the spotlight. To be honest, Harry wasn't sure about Malfoy intentions; he had indeed discovered Harry's secret - which didn't mean that the brunet was going to admit anything out loud - but for what purpose? He probably had enough elements to share his suspicions with his readers if it was his initial intention. There had to be something else. Regardless...

"You are wrong, Malfoy" said Harry, doing his best to keep his cool. "You might have seen someone looking like me, but it was somebody else."

The blond rose an eyebrow. "Oh? And I assume you have an alibi to explain your empty flat?"

"Obviously". Well, not exactly, but there was probably an excuse he could use... not Hermione, nor Ron since Malfoy already knew he hadn't seen them, but...

"I was at with my lover."

As expected, this statement made Malfoy lose his balance. His hands slipped on the wall and he had to take a few steps back in order to find some stability.

"Your... your lover?"

"Yes, my lover." really, such surprise was slightly offensive. Even if Harry didn't have a real lover due to lack of time and interest, it didn't mean that others didn't find him attractive. 

"Who?"

"Sorry?"

"Who is your lover?" Suddenly, Malfoy seemed to have gotten back his confidence, as if he had seen through Harry's lie.

 "Come on Scarhead. If you give me a name in the count of three, I promise I will leave you alone for a while."

Oh. Shit.

"One"

A name. Someone who could be his lover.

"Two"

Someone who Malfoy wouldn't know, and in whom Harry could convincingly be interested.

"Three"

"Tom Riddle"    

Oh. Well. Speak of revealing slip. 

Both men stayed in silence for a few minutes, looking and inspecting each other. In the end, Malfoy retreated. "A promise is a promise, Potter. I guess I will leave you alone for some time." Adjusting his hat, he turned around.

Harry let out a sight he hadn't noticed he had been holding.

"However..." said Malfoy, stopping a few meters away. He turned, a condescending smile on his face. "I haven't said anything about Tom Riddle"

And with that, he was gone. 

Harry stayed where he was, the surprise taking over the cold.

 Oh.

Shit.

Well.

It's not as if Malfoy knew Riddle, right?

Riddle, the "no cream, no sugar. Black. Like my soul." guy.

Riddle, with whom he had only exchanged the needed word to his job after having been coldly stared at after the first time he had tried to tell a joke to the man.

Riddle, on whom Harry, apparently, might have a crush - at least for his body.

Riddle, who would probably come at five past eight today, like every day.

Riddle, who he would see in a few hours.

"Oh shit". said Harry out loud, before rushing to his cafe. 

 

**OOOOO**

"Oh my god. I can't believe this is the first name you came up with". Said Ginny, between two laughs. 

"Ah Ah. very funny. Just so you know, you are the one going to take Riddle's order, today." Honestly, Harry should just have kept the whole thing for himself. It was no big deal, after all. But no. Old habits die hard, they say. And he was just used to tell everything to Ginny. She was the only one who knew about his nightly occupation, and she even helped him sometimes, when he needed a cover or when he had to take a day off to look after some wounds. 

They had dated during Harry's last school year. However, they had both decided to end it when it was clear that Harry was more interested in her brothers - like Charlie - than in his official girlfriend. The break up had been easy, despite the obvious disappointment of the Weasley matriarch who had been hoping for their wedding since they were twelve and eleven. 

Ginny had discovered Harry's secret one night, when she had forgotten her bag at the café. Using her spare key - which Harry had given her in case if she needed to open or close the place - she had opened the door, had gone to the back room... only to find Harry tending a nasty cut on his arms, in his super costume, his mask on the table. Ginny being Ginny, she had simply shrugged and had brought Harry some disinfectant. Coming from a family with many boys, she knew how to look after light wounds. 

"Don't take it like this. This is just so funny... I didn't know you had a thing for tall, somber and mysterious men Harry."

"Everybody has a thing for tall, somber and mysterious men, Ginny. Now, can you help me with the croissant? They are not going to come out of the oven by themsleves."

"Sure, sure. Wait just a sec." The young woman pulled back her hair into a ponytail and went to wash her hadn't before coming back to help her friend. They took the croissants out of the oven, put them on display - behind a glass, obviously - and then went to check one last time their coffee supply. Before they knew it, it was eight o'clock.

Looking at the clock, Harry said, "Well, I am going to hide for the next ten minutes. It should be enough to avoid any awkward situation. Call me - only - if there is an emergency."

Already at the counter, the red hair watched his friend going to the back room. Before he managed to close the door, she told him, "You know that he is going to come tomorrow, right? And the day after?"

From behind the door, Harry responded "Well, as the mormons say, tomorrow is a later day. So I will worry about that later."

"Really, Harry. You have a superpower. You fight criminals every night. How can confronting Riddle be more intimidating?"

"Ah. Just wait to take his order."

Exactly five minutes later, the bell chimed. A tall, somber and mysterious looking man entered. He had high cheekbones, neat dark hair with some traces of grey around the temple - probably more due to worrying and an agitated life than to his age - since the guy couldn't be older than forty. Behind his black suit and white shirt, it was easy to see that the man was well built, with no excess of fat or muscle. 

Seeing him approaching the counter, Ginny thought that she really couldn't blame Harry. Tom Riddle was probably the walking sex dream of more than one person.

"An americano".

Until he opened his mouth. Then he became kind of a rude asshole. Never a "please", never a "thank you", never a "good morning".

Nevertheless, Ginny smiled at him. "Right away, Sir." She went to make the drink but was interrupted.

"Not you. The boy."

Turning back to face the customer, Ginny asked. " Excuse me, sir?"

"I want the boy who usually makes my coffee to do it today as well." responded Riddle. Without emotion on his face.

"I assure you, sir, that I am able to make a coffee just as good as my co-worker." Hell. It was an Americano. Nobody could screw that up.

Riddle took out his wallet. He took a note of five and showed it to Ginny. "I am the customer, here. I am the one paying. Unless you want an angry customer walking out of this place,  and bad reviews on the net, you will fetch your co-worker and he will make this coffee. There is no other customer, so don't tell me that he is too busy. 

If looks could kill, the man would lay dead on the floor. Ginny was throwing daggers at him, but it didn't seem to bother him. Seeing no other way to avoid collateral damages, Ginny went to look after Harry in order to satisfy the bastard.

"There is an emergency," said the girl, opening the door of the back room.

"No there isn't". responded Harry, sitting at the table and reading the newspaper.

"Oh yes there is. And I swear that if you don't come quickly, you might have an even bigger problem."

"Such as?"

"Well; do you know how to get away with murder? Because if I lose it and kill Riddle, you will be my accomplice. You were right; the guy is worse than criminals. In fact, it wouldn't surprise me if he was an evil mastermind."

Harry let out a sight. "Let's not exaggerate. I have met evil masterminds, and they were all raving mad..." Ginny raised an eyebrow. "... Riddle, always so calm and composed, is probably a psychopath"

On this note, he closed the paper and got up. When they got back to the counter, Ginny saw the strangest - and most suspicious thing she had ever seen; upon seeing Harry, Tom Riddle's demeanor changed from cold and rigid to relax and charming. His lips formed a small, but nonetheless present and amused, smirk. 

 "An americano, black. Is that it Sir?" asked Harry without looking at the man - therefore missing the way he looked at him - and going straight to the coffee machine.

"Exactly."

Once the coffee ready, Harry put it on the counter and took the payment. As he handed Riddle his change, he said, "Sir, I thank you for your fidelity, but I would like to ask you to show some respect towards the staff, please."

From afar, Ginny saw Riddle's smirk grow. 

"Oh, Harry..."

Upon hearing his name, the small brunet looked up from the counter machine. What he saw in front of him were two hazel eyes, with strange traces of red in them, and a smile which showed way too many teeth to be totally well-intentioned.

"After our torrid night together, no need to be so formal."

...

Well.

Shit.

Malfoy knew Tom Riddle.  

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. The writer love constructive reviews :)


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